So, you might have noticed that it only took me two weeks to break my promise. I said that you would have a new FFF every week. I fucked that up. But there are a couple of good reasons for this:
1)My internet was out until late Friday afternoon last week, and by the time I got it back, it was a bit too late.
2)I found a story so awful, so evil that it shall go down in the annals of FFF history as being just as bad as the Pokémon story. It was that bad. This is not it, but I will run it next week. This week, though, I need some time to recover.
Now, this weeks tale about the Snuggly Soft Bear is almost definitely a crack fic. I don’t particularly care. I mean, this is the disclaimer: “Snuggle is copyright Snuggletime, Lever Brothers and Healthtex. The Care Bears are copyright Mattel. Galactus is copyright Marvel.”
IT’S A STORY FEATURING SNUGGLES, THE CARE BEARS, AND GALACTUS. HOW COULD I RESIST.
In the beginning was Mr. Potato Head, a brown plastic toy, floating in a black void. He did not have his trademark glasses and moustache because Groucho Marx hadn’t been invented yet.
AND MISTER POTATO HEAD IS GOD.
Mr. Potato Head was lonely in the void. He longed for companionship. So he opened his butt and took out an ice scraper, a red handled piece of plastic with the name “HOPPY” on it.
Did… did Mr. Potato Head just pull an Ice Scrapper out of his ass?
“I will call you Wife,” Mr. Potato head said to the ice scraper. And Mr. Potato Head made sweet, passionate love with the ice scraper.
MR. POTATO HEAD JUST FUCKED AN ICE SCRAPPER. THAT HAPPENED.
And Mr. Potato Head gave birth to a Betamax Videocassette. And he threw the cassette down, and clouds spread forth from within. And the clouds swelled and became semi-solid, and Mr. Potato Head built a magnificent city there. And he said, “I will call this place Care-A-Lot, because I made sweet, passionate love to an ice scraper.”
And then he took a sponge out of his butt, throwing it down from Care-A-Lot, and it formed into the earth. And Mr. Potato Head said, “I will call you Sponge, because you are porous and absorb liquids.” And Mr. Potato Head pulled the rest of the universe out of his butt.
Does… does Mr. Potato Head have infinity in his ass? Did some one apply Time-Lord Technology?
And then he made sweet, sweet, passionate love with the ice scraper once more. And he gave birth to an egg, which hatched into Groucho Marx. And Mr. Potato Head made love with Groucho Marx, but (ahem) that’s just not something anyone wants to hear about.
Then Mr. Potato head removed his eyes and placed them on a cloud in Care-A-Lot, and his eyes became like cotton balls and they grew into a pair of rainbow colored teddy bears. Male and female he created them. And he said to them, “I will call you Lollipop and Sunshine, because now I have no eyes!”
And Lollipop and Sunshine lay with one another, and became one flesh. Multiple times. And they gave birth to all the teddy bears in Care-A-Lot. They were called “Care Bears” because Lollipop and Sunshine made sweet passionate love with each other. And they all had names, different colors, and stories, even though they all pretty much looked like they came out of the same factory mold, but it’s not really important to the story. Do not the Copyrighted Scrolls of Mattel describe the story of the Care Bears?
I… I just don’t know how to respond here.
On the tenth day of the tenth month of the first year, sometime during the second season, after the credits rolled on episode 454, the Care Bears held their annual Happy Berry Harvest Festival, in which the massive quantities of Happy Berry Moonshine, which had been so carefully brewed and fermented over the years, were brought forward and shared, as per the Care Bear way.
And the Care Bears did become drunk and, (ahem) you probably don’t want to hear about that. And Broccoli Bear and Funshine Bear lay with each other, so that Broccoli Bear became with child, because you can’t really tell what sex they are anyway. They had a child, and named him Snuggle, because they had made sweet passionate love with each other.
I’m seeing a trend here…
And the following day, when the Care Bears were all suffering from hangovers, they decided to never again hold the dreaded Happy Berry Festival, disavowing all knowledge of its existence, and all the events that transpired therein. And Broccoli Bear was shunned and sent out from Care-A-Lot with her child, because none of them wanted to remember what happened that fateful night, and parents would have become upset if they found out that the animated counterparts of their children’s stuffed toys had reproductive capabilities.
So Broccoli Bear was sent down to the earth, a land of great gloom, unhappiness, and lots of rain. And Broccoli Bear was devoured by Galactus, the devourer of worlds. Is this not written in X-Men #2132?
Snuggle was ten years of age when his mother was devoured by Galactus. And he was alone, and he wandered the earth in search of Spock.
My god… it’s full of stars.
Grumpson Memorial Park, Seattle, WA
And Snuggles was abandoned in Seattle. I… I just can’t.
It was raining. Dark clouds loomed ominously over the towering pine trees, a fierce wind shaking the branches. Thunder echoed through the park. Lightning illuminated the darkness for brief seconds, then the light faded and darkness returned. The torrential rain poured down from the sky by the gallon. The walkways were flooded. The grass became like a soft, wet marshland.
Whether it was daytime or nighttime was uncertain. This was Seattle. It was always dark, rainy and miserable.
ONLY BECAUSE MR. POTATO HEAD MADE IT THAT WAY
A small white bear lay beneath a bench, huddled under a newspaper. It wasn’t very warm, and not very dry, but it would have been worse without the newspaper. He didn’t feel very Snuggly soft at the moment. In fact, he felt positively Snuggly wet, Snuggly cold, and Snuggly miserable. He shivered under the bench, clutching the newspaper, curled in a ball of Snuggly damp fuzziness.
He hated Galactus. He hated his mother for being eaten by Galactus. He hated the Care Bears for kicking her out of Care-A-Lot. He wished he could just be warm, dry, and free of static cling. He sighed, rolling over on the wet grass. The trash can next to him reeked. The newspaper he held also reeked, because it came out of the trash can. But Snuggle was too cold and wet to care. He closed his eyes and slept.
Is… is the author really that impressed by his toilet paper? Throwing in some nice words in his story about MR. POTATO HEAD SHITTING AND FUCKING THE UNIVERSE INTO CREATION. THAT HAPPENED.
When he awoke, it was still raining. He got up and went into a restroom on the top of a hill.
Oh, a hill. How descriptive.
The restroom had a large sink, toilets, and a pair of electric hand driers. Harsh flourescent lights shined down from the ceiling.
Snuggle stood there, dripping, making a large puddle on the floor. He looked around the room. No paper towels. He’d have to use the hand drier, and it was almost two feet above his head.
He looked outside. It was raining buckets now, the handles breaking off as they slammed into the pavement. He went out and grabbed one, bringing it into the bathroom. He turned it upside down and set it on the floor in front of the drier. He pushed in the shiny silver button, and the drier started up.
He spent several minutes holding his face, his head and his paws in the path of the warm air. Once those parts were dry, he grabbed the top of the drier, hanging his body over the blower so it could dry off his chest. He climbed up higher, dangling his legs and his crotch over the blower.
I swear, if Snuggles starts fucking the drier, I’m done.
“Hey, why don’t you two get a room?”
Snuggle stared at the doorway. There was a bum with a scraggly beard standing there. He wore a raggedy looking black and brown plaid shirt and a ripped up, dirty pair of faded jeans. Snuggle looked down, and suddenly felt ashamed of himself. He hopped down. “I wasn’t humping the drier.”
“Could’ve fooled me!” The expression on the bum’s dirty face was dead serious.
*Wipes sweat from brow*
Snuggle frowned at the bum. “Your clothing needs to be washed. And ironed.”
“Go to hell.” The bum went into a stall.
The hobo is oddly offended at that. I mean, he’s a hobo. That’s really just pointing out the obvious.
“I hope you get static cling from your cardboard box,” Snuggle muttered. He went back to the drier, running the hot air over his back. Once that was done, he curled up in the windowsill and fell asleep.
When he awoke, he found himself surrounded by a bright, multicolored light, like a rainbow. He felt himself rising in the air, drifting through the ceiling of the restroom, soaring up, up into the air, beyond the clouds, into the sky, until he was in outer space. For some reason, he didn’t implode, and he could breathe, which was really weird. He knocked a sensor off the International Space Station and continued flying upwards.
There goes HBO again…
The stars thinned out. He found himself floating through a vast, empty void. He drifted upwards, and he saw the Potato.
ALL HAIL THE HOLY POTATO
The Potato had no eyes. It had a large, goofy nose and a stylized pair of lips. Two thin, bendy arms were positioned on either side of its body. Its feet was a single stubby unit made to resemble a pair of tennis shoes.
Snuggle drifted through the void, unable to control his movement. He tumbled and rolled in the vacuum, staring at the potato.
“Welcome, Snuggle, my son,” said a voice from somewhere.
“What?” Snuggle stammered. “What are you? Who are you?”
“I am Mr. Potato head,” said the potato. “I created your ancestors by pulling my eyes out.”
YES WE READ MUST WE GO OVER IT AGAIN
“Ummm…that’s nice!” Snuggle said with a sheepish grin.
“I also created the world by having sex with an ice scraper. I just thought I’d mention that.”
“Ummm…you really didn’t have to,” Snuggle muttered. “It’s okay.”
“Actually, I did have to mention it, because you are my son, Snuggle, and I tell my sons everything.”
THEY’RE GONNA NEED MORE THERAPY THAN ME
Snuggle frowned. “Well, okay.”
“Why, last night, me and Groucho Marx…”
“Sir, could I be so bold as to ask you why I’m up here?”
“Well, you see, my son, I created you to bring Snuggly softness to the world.”
Snuggle squinted at the potato. He found its lack of eyes unsettling. “Um, what? Snuggly what?”
“Snuggly softness. It’s a technical term. Basically, I want you to go out there and make stuff warm and soft and static free.”
THIS IS MY NEW BIBLE
Snuggle frowned. “And how am I supposed to do that?”
“Well, you see, Snuggle, all my sons have magical powers. Funshine bear, for example, can shoot a rainbow beam out of his belly, and it’s really cute.”
I’ve never see a single episode of Care Bears, but… that’s not true, is it? Because that sounds dumb as fuck.
“That’s great,” Snuggle said with a frown. “My mom said it was really cute when he…”
“Snuggle,” the potato sighed. “The reason why you are up here is that you haven’t received your magical power yet.”
“Would you like to have a magical power?”
Snuggle shrugged. “I dunno. I guess it would be nice.”
“Of course it would be nice. And who wouldn’t want to have the power to refresh fabrics just by touching them?”
Snuggle’s jaw dropped. “What? Fabric refreshing? That’s a power?”
YOU DARE CHALLENGE THE HOLY POTATO?! BLASPHEMY! HEATHEN!
“It is now. I just pulled it out of my butt. You know I’ve got a panel back there, and it stores a lot of stuff. In fact, my Wife came out of there. She’s an ice scraper, you know.”
The bear winced. “So, about this fabric refreshing thing…”
“I also pulled the entire universe out of my butt. And Groucho Marx. Did I mention that I…?”
“Sir, what about this power?”
“Oh. Right. I’m giving you a power, Snuggle. I’m giving you the power of Snuggly Softness. Once you receive this power, you will only have to touch an object and think soft thoughts, and the object will magically be given a soft, downy fluffiness that will make you the envy of all your competitors.”
“Competitors?” Snuggle blinked. “I have competitors?”
Well, they exist, but nobody buys them…
“Snuggle, I am sending you into a world that is filled with fabric refreshers. It is one of the hazards of having a capitalistic free market system. So, naturally, as you begin to share your powers of softness with the world, you will have enemies.”
“Sir, I don’t even have a company.”
“Snuggle, listen. Wherever you are, wherever you go, that’s where you’ll be.”
“Um, you didn’t answer my question.”
“Well, some questions don’t need answering.”
“But still, I mean, you said I’d have competitors, and that implies that I have a company, and I don’t have a company.”
“Snuggle, you are your own company. Recieve now the powers of softness!”
AND THUS THE HOLY POTATO SPOKE UNTO HIS SON, SNUGGLE, AND SAID “YOU ARE YOUR OWN COMPANY! RECIEVE NOW THE POWERS OF SOFTNESS!”.
A glowing, rainbow colored light surrounded the bear’s body, infusing it with Snuggly softness. The power merged with Snuggle’s soul, filling his very being with the things of wrinkle free fluffiness.
“Go forward, my son, and share your Snuggly softness with the world!”
There was a flash of light, then Snuggle found himself back in the restroom windowsill. He sat up with a start.
His paws were glowing. He lifted them up, staring at them with awe and wonderment. “Wow,” he breathed, turning them from side to side, spreading his chubby digits.
A stall door came open and the bum stepped out. “Feels like I just gave birth in there!”
Snuggle stared at the man for a second, then began thinking about softness. The glow in his paws began to spread up his arms, until his whole body was encompassed in a white glow. He slowly walked over to the man, raised his paws, and grabbed the corner of his raggedy shirt.
There was a brilliant flash of multicolored light. Giant cartoony stars, hearts and rainbows filled the room. The bum’s clothing and hair flapped around like he were standing in a wind tunnel.
Soft, Snuggle thought. Soft!
A warm glow suffused the entire room. The graffiti on the mirrors changed from curse words to smiling happy faces. The floors became polished and clean. The sinks gleamed. The big mints in the urinals refilled themselves, the sagging stall doors magically repairing themselves. All the toilet paper changed from 1 ply industrial paper to Kleenex Cottonelle.
The bum’s appearance changed. He became plump, and his clothing suddenly fit. The wrinkles disappeared from his shirt. The plaid on his shirt changed from black and brown to its original red-black color. The stains were gone, and the holes were gone. His jeans transformed into brand new Levis. His beard, which had once been matted and scraggly, was now soft, smooth, and well trimmed. He looked like a new man.
Snuggle’s legs wobbled. His arms trembled. He began to feel faint. He let go of the man’s shirt, stumbled sideways, and fell.
SNUGGLES IS JESUS. ALL HAIL THE HOLY POTATO.
That’s it, actually. If the author has written more, I can’t find it. ALL HAIL THE HOLY POTATO! ALL HAIL THE HOLY POTATO! ALL HAIL THE HOLY POTATO!